sabado

You know what's blissful? Saturday mornings. As a kid, what could be cooler than a day where you don't have to get out of bed until you want to (meaning: you sleep in allll the way until 6:45 instead of the weekday wakeup of 6:30). Parents sleep in (or attempt to) on Saturdays, so it was one long morning of sugary cereal eaten on a blanket raft in the living room wearing pajamas and watching Inspector Gadget, Smurfs, or later, Saved By the Bell. Coolness. Now that we're over cartoons, Saturday should equal a couple extra hours of lazy sleep, right? Hah.

You know what's NOT blissful? Saturday mornings with two bright eyed bushy tailed cats, ringing phones, and an inconvenient shortage of Diet Coke. 6:50am. I awake to curious noises coming from my nightstand. Then furious clawing. Then a satisfied little meow and the telltale sound of something hitting the floor- I know it's George, the household ChapStick fiend, striking again. I can't ignore that, I need my ChapStick. I peel my eyes open, drag myself from bed, and sure enough- there's George in the corner doing his best to look totally kittenish and innocent (ho, hum, nothing to see here, certainly nothing hiding under your dresser, definitely not, go back to bed!) I fish my ChapStick out from under the dresser and crawl back into bed, hiding it under my pillow. Minutes later I'm awaken again (literally- 6:54am)- more meowing. A few paw nudges to my chest. A fuzzy little head butt. This means one thing- Ralph's awake, and he wants his Sheba. I open one eye and he's there, 4 inches from my face, looking at me expectantly. IT'S SATURDAY, fools! I scoop up both of them and lock them in the laundry room to steal another couple hours of sleep. One hour later the phone is ringing. I ignore it. No one who calls at 8am on a Saturday is worth getting out of bed for. It rings again moments later. FINE, world, I'm AWAKE. Happy? I'll get up. If I don't get to sleep in, what I really need to rescue my Saturday morning is a Diet Coke. As any self-respecting Aus knows, you're not actually awake until there's an aluminum can of caffienated something in your hand. I stumble downstairs, open the fridge, and you guessed it........vast nothingness where the DC should be. I even did the movie thing where you shut the fridge and open it up again real quick to see if something has changed- nada. J and Roomie G are going to GET IT tonight. We've got an unspoken rule in this house that mama always gets the last DC (yeah, I'm spoiled, so what). Thieves.